


you two are dancing in a snow globe (go round and round)

by saltziepark



Category: Legacies (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F, Masquerade Ball, Season One Compliant, all the girls like girls because thats canon, and hope and lizzie are idiots too, but maybe they will get it together, but they're both stubborn idiots, masked balls and dancing, oh my, soulmatery, the selfish and the selfless, they're in love, what even is season two of this show
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-03-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:54:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22714240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saltziepark/pseuds/saltziepark
Summary: She's trying, really trying, not to think of Penelope any longer. She really is. The world is louder. Messier. She can breathe easier. She is happy. Or on her way there, maybe.But day two hundred and fifty-four after Penelope left brings Josie's world crashing down.
Relationships: Hope Mikaelson & Lizzie Saltzman, Hope Mikaelson/Lizzie Saltzman, Penelope Park & Josie Saltzman, Penelope Park/Josie Saltzman, basically mg is the best wingman ever, menelope brotp, mosie brotp
Comments: 68
Kudos: 346





	1. you can hear it in the silence

Winter had come to Mystic Falls and Salvatore Boarding School for the Young and Gifted. Snow blanketed the grounds, the frozen trees shining in the early morning light, icicles weighing down the boughs like heavy blankets. Josie exhales, a flume of her breath moving across the sky as she stretches out behind the main building, pulling her arms across her chest first to the right, and then to the left, bending her legs and lunging. She reaches up and the bottom of her sweatshirt drifts up her stomach. The sweatshirt wasn’t hers. It was a relic, a memory, from six months ago. She clung to it like a life raft in a storm. It still smelled like Penelope, even now. Music blares through her headphones and the morning was hers and hers alone. The day dawns purple - breaking across galaxies, transforming into the deepest azure rays. Blue seeps into red, then ochre, splashes of pink before light takes hold of the darkness and banishes it for the day. The sun crosses the horizon as the dawn greets Josie and the sunrise only served as a reminder that she hadn’t been sleeping well.

She had once read somewhere that sunrises are for the survivors, for the ones who have weathered storms and she had been through enough in the past six months to warrant such a title. Two hundred forty-seven days since Penelope Park had left (not that she was counting) and she felt just as wounded, just as damaged as the night she walked away.

 _“Forget about her, Josie,”_ lingers in her ear, words whispered before she had fallen asleep so long ago. Lizzie has only been looking out for her. Only wanted her to get her mind off of Penelope Park.

But the problem was - she couldn’t. Not even a little bit. Your first love isn’t meant to be your soulmate. That’s not how it works, after all. But Josie knew that the moment that she had met Penelope, the moment she had finally kissed Penelope, the moment she fell in love with Penelope — a collection of scenes sewn together with string — would replay in her mind for the rest of her days.

Her run takes her around the periphery of the campus and she's pushing herself, her lungs burning and sweat beading down her chest as she finally makes the turn around the last tree and back to the main building. She pulls her arms above her head, gasping for air but savoring the numbness that comes with being tired. With being distracted. She wipes her face clean of sweat with the bottom of her Stallions tank top. Penelope’s sweater lay waiting for her on the ground and she reaches down to tie it around her waist. A part of her mind drifts to a vision of her gym clothes in a heap on the floor next to the shared showers, steam wrapping around herself and Penelope as the water from the shower slowly grew colder. Josie groans internally, checking her phone. The memory, like all memories of Penelope, came unbidden, but the feelings of her slick skin and warm kisses were still there, ghosting across Josie’s body like a phantom touch.

“Shit!” the brunette exclaims loudly. She was late. M.G. would be waiting for her in the training room and she knew how antsy he got when he had to wait.

* * *

A bead of sweat drips down her face, rolling off of her nose and dropping soundlessly to the blue mat as M.G. jabs a spear, blunted of course, towards Josie’s chest. He’s striking too close for comfort, but she blocks it well with a short sword in each hand, the spear she wears on her back bouncing up and down as she tries to strike back. After the constant threat of monsters all those months ago, Alaric had loosened some restrictions on what training the students could do, and Josie relishes in the feeling of yet another thing to distract her from thoughts of a certain raven-haired brunette. Josie’s chest is heaving and her arms are burning from the exertion, but she refuses to yield while M.G. is still coming at her, his steps quick and measured. Her heart's beating in her ears and she drifts away from the fight as she falls into the rhythm that she creates with him. Almost like dancing, but even a thought like that is enough to cause panic to rise in her throat. The last person she danced with was — _nope, not going there, Josie._

M.G. was her anchor. Filling her world with color every day, every smile that he throws Josie’s way, every wink and witty comment when he thinks he gets the upper hand in the training center, but she was always right back there with him. He brings her out of her silence each day and she thanks the gods for him. A thought of Penelope, unbidden yet again, makes Josie lose a step quickly and she shakes her head to drown out the emotions filtering in. The storm's raging within her, making her feel suffocated and trapped and Josie hopes against hope that Lizzie can’t feel this right now.

A jab of her own and her sword catches M.G. on his arm and she drops her weapon instantly, the blood materializing fast.

“M.G.,” she starts, stepping over to him to place a hand over his bicep.

“I’m — shoot, I’m sorry,” her words come fast and Josie thinks that maybe she can rip a strip out of her tank top to fashion a tourniquet for the moment.

“Thought you were faster than that though,” she replies with a wink, finally looking up at him and taking a step backward. “You had the upper hand the entire time.”

“Yeah, well, clearly we didn’t do a good enough job blunting the end of that sword. You sure you got the spell right, Jo?”

M.G. is holding onto the cut, his hand growing redder and redder and Josie grabs his other hand with both of hers, her palm glowing brightly before she reaches up to where she nicked him, muttering a charm. M.G. hisses out as the wound heals and Josie has to laugh because he can be such a baby sometimes, but maybe she had been distracted when she set the enchantment for the weapons. Today, this morning, its all felt a little _off._

“I’m gonna call that round a tie, for the record, even though you get bonus points for the heal,” M.G. begins to gather up their weapons to put back in the armory, his back drenched with sweat and Josie knew that they were both in desperate need of a shower.

“Jo, can I ask you something?” M.G.’s back is turned and he says it with so much hesitation that Josie looks up from where she had been bent over her bag, water bottle in hand.

“What is it?”

“The Masquerade Ball - its next week and I know Lizzie has become like a witchzilla with all the planning, and you’ve been helping her out, and I was wondering if you wanted to go? As friends, of course. I mean —” he rubs the back of his neck, eyes downcast because they all knew how the last event that the school held had gone.

Josie had disappeared halfway through it after spectacularly throwing herself from the grand banister. He had seen her hours later with a tear-streaked face, eyes distant and cold. Penelope had already been long gone at that point.

“I know it's gonna be full of other witches and vamps and wolves because of your dad trying to do some sort of United Nations supernatural school outreach, but I could be your escort? ” he finishes quickly, fully turned towards Josie now. M.G's treating her with kid’s gloves in asking this and Josie knows that its purely for her benefit, that he would much rather go with Lizzie but as she has her head shoved too far up her own ass with party planning and has been spending far too much time with a certain wolf boy (even if she always chanced glances at Hope whenever she was around), that she feels her face break out into a smile that is marginally brighter than one that he has seen from her in months.

It doesn’t quite reach her eyes though. No smile does these days.

“Yeah — yes, of course, M.G.,” Josie replies.

She knew that without him, Lizzie, and even Hope, these past few months would have been a lot worse so she shakes her head, gathering up her things as M.G. joins her before they head back to their dorms.

“Maybe someone will catch your eye, you never know,” M.G. adds, an arm slung across Josie’s shoulder.

She inhales sharply, knives and daggers in her throat and the barbed wire that was wrapped around her shattered heart clenching tighter. The sharp intake of breath is all that leaves her mouth before she hangs her head.

“We all miss her too, Jo. Maybe not in the same way as you, but the hurt is there. You deserve to stop punishing yourself for her leaving.”

* * *

_Silence._

That was what had greeted her when Penelope had told Josie that they couldn’t be together anymore.

Silence and the sound of her heartbeat in her ears. She had never fought her on the dissolution of their relationship. She didn't raise a finger as Penelope set fire to everything that she had known without so much as a crack in her facade. Josie felt her heart breaking and the tears were falling, questions and demands lingering in her mind.

Things she never dared to say out loud. Things she wished she had said. She swallowed her words and built gardens with them and they flourished with all the things she had choked down.

_"You don’t mean that, Penelope."_

_"Fight for this!"_

_"Look at me, Penelope. Look at me and fight for me!"_

Josie had flung out a wrist, sending the vase of flowers that Penelope had gotten for her days earlier into the wall. The silence lingered long after the shards of glass hit the floor.

Josie remembered a few things clearly. The drip of the water down the white walls. The long green stems and white petals a massacre on the wooden slats. Penelope glancing at the mess and said nothing. Josie staying silent. Silent and holding her heart in her hands, fighting with herself to say something, anything to make a girl like Penelope Park want to stay and be with a girl like Josie Saltzman.

Silence greeted Penelope as she pulled on her coat. Silence as she crossed to the door, yanking it open. Silence as she wordlessly begged Josie to fight for them, one last pleading look thrown her way. Josie’s head bowed and her knuckles clenched. Silence as the door slammed behind her.

Josie was a fool to think that Penelope would be back. She was a fool to think that it had meant anything other than a passing fancy for the raven-haired witch. No, Josie had been a convenience, there for the taking and easily discarded. Penelope was a fool to think that Josie would run after her. She was a fool to think that Josie had that fight in her, the selfish act to be her own person and choose her own happiness. She paused outside of Josie’s shared room and was greeted with silence. She sighed, her breath leaving her lungs like a thousand knives stabbing at her throat, a hand on the door as she waited a beat, and then a moment longer, the sounds of choking sobs breaking the stillness.

Their relationship has been anything but silent. They had painted poetry with their lips. Penelope’s words washed over Josie, pulled her underneath and she sank into the other girl, drifting slowly.

Silence once again greeted Josie the night that Penelope left the school. Josie had never anticipated that the witch would blink out of existence in her life and she was rudderless once more, the lies from her father and sister compounding with Penelope’s departure and metastasizing into something untenable, turning Josie into someone truly changed. She had taken for granted the way that Penelope had grounded her, even when Josie was trying to convince herself and everyone around her that she still wasn’t hopelessly in love with the girl. Even when the raven-haired witch had so spectacularly broken her heart. Even when she dangled M.G. in front of Josie. Even when she poked and prodded and needled her way into daily interactions with Josie, the brunette didn’t realize that she needed Penelope like she needed oxygen.

Being hurt by her and disappointed constantly was more than just the nothing that greeted her now. Her reasons for ending it, her reasons for leaving were still fresh in Josie’s mind, turning her stomach to poison. In the days, weeks, and months that followed, Josie sought out noise and chaos. Filling the gaps with sound if only to stave off thoughts of her. If only to prevent her world from going silent once more.

It had taken her days after the breakup, collapsing into her bed unwilling to get out to bring herself to realize the depth of her emotions. The shallowness of Penelope’s. To realize that the witch had fundamentally altered her being. Every atom that she was made of was changed because of Penelope and she hated herself for it. She hated her thoughts betraying her when she was most vulnerable. She hated her inability to delete her name and number from her phone.

It was on day fourteen that she had thrown her phone into the lake if only to cleanse herself of her memory. Day thirty brought new sheets and clothes (save for the sweatshirt). Smelling nothing like that scent of Penelope that lingered in Josie’s mind. Day forty-five brought a reorganization of her bookshelf that Penelope had so meticulously organized for her. Nothing worked to exorcize the thoughts of her from Josie’s head. Day one hundred and twenty-seven saw her dive headfirst into her studies like never before — she had pushed her father to allow them to study offensive magic and he had finally relented.

But even then, her damned memory betrayed her once more. Thinking back to nights curled on an armchair with Penelope, her legs flung over Penelope’s as she read aloud her favorite stories of witches in the Middle East and the uniqueness of their magical culture and how it all blended together even now. She swallowed back those memories again as she bent over her shoes to untie them. She tried, she really did, not to think of Penelope any longer. The world was louder. Messier. She could breathe easier. She was happy.

Day two hundred and fifty-four would bring it all crashing down.

* * *

Lucky for Josie but perhaps to the detriment of everyone else, Lizzie didn’t want anyone’s input for the Masquerade Ball.

She had it all under control and the honor council had accepted their stack of binders without much grumbling and set to work. The theme was _European Royalty_ and Lizzie was demanding only the best, as they were opening their doors to other magical kids and teens.

Alaric had been in contact with the headmistress of an institute in New York and with the coming of the winter holidays and Saturnalia, it was the perfect excuse for a dance and fostering of good relations with others of their kind. The twins had spent an agonizing amount of time picking out ball gowns for the night. Correction — Lizzie had spent an agonizing amount of time picking out her gown for the night. Josie had selected one of the dresses that Lizzie had tossed away without a second glance. Thank god they could magic whatever color they wanted it to be because that would have added hours to the excursion.

Hope had tagged along with them in her attempt to “make friends or whatever” (Hope’s words, not Josie’s) and the vice that clenched around Josie’s heart lessened somewhat. A tenuous bond had materialized between the three girls — past wounds and indignities fading as they got older.

They all wore armor to guard themselves against getting hurt — Lizzie wore her armor with anger and cynical comments, Hope wore hers with deflections and sarcasm, Josie wore hers with newfound sass and isolation, walls miles high.

It had been awkward, and not at all in the way Josie had imagined. She’d expected to spend the day playing mediator between Hope and Lizzie, but they’d gotten on surprisingly well.

A little too well, for someone with a boyfriend and someone who was proclaiming a crush on the newest member of the flag football team. Or the wickery team. Her sister’s crushes had been as ever-changing as they were irrelevant, these days.

Perhaps, a previous Josie, the before-Penelope version of herself would have been jealous.

Jealous of the way Hope’s hands had lingered when she’d zipped up Lizzie’s dress.

Jealous of the way her past crush’s eyes had flashed gold when Lizzie found the perfect dress.

Jealous of they’d been unable to stay away from each other, constantly scooting closer and leaning into each other, seemingly connected by a thread.

But now, now, now, everything is different. And Hope, objectively still one of the prettiest girls Josie has ever met, doesn’t make her heart beat even a little faster. Not anymore.


	2. one look, dark room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A plan is hatched, the game is set, and the players arrive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, i am eternally grateful to liz for being the best beta, friend, and supporter a girl could ask for.

Penelope Park types furiously on her phone, rattling off texts like shots from a machine gun as the plane touched down outside of Washington, D.C. 

A three-hour drive ahead of her and she was glued to the device, making sure that everything was perfect, that her plan was set in stone. M.G. had laid the groundwork well and she knew she had to make it up to the boy at some point if the pile of comic books in her carry-on weren’t enough. 

Everything had to go well. Because if it didn’t, she really didn’t think her heart could take walking away from Josie another time. 

The magic required to pull off the stunt was child’s play but the duration of the glamour was the tricky part and Penelope had spent the better part of the year concentrating all of her energy on a single black mask, adorned with blood-red rubies around the edges. 

She had snuck into the school easily enough, the driver of her hired car turning around before making it to the main gate. Alaric _really_ needed to update his security system if a former student could easily walk onto the grounds, but perhaps everyone’s mind was occupied by keeping the students in for the night rather than keeping things out. It seemed the other students were arriving and Penelope could blend easily into the crowd as she makes her way to M.G.’s room, the creak of the floors of the main building welcoming her back. 

She pauses at the door to inhale the scent, tears materializing in her eyes before she blinks them away. Now was no time for sentiment. 

“Come on, P, you need to add a cape. They’re dashing. Heroes wear capes all the time,” M.G. tells her from his bed as she gets ready in his room. 

A jumpsuit adorned with red accents and subtle black satin fleur de lis covered her body, the mask next to M.G. as he lounges on his bed with his pile of comic books all around him. 

To say that the smile that had overtaken his face when she dumped them unceremoniously on his comforter hours before had been like a kid in a candy store was a huge understatement. 

His suit hung on the door and Penelope had to hand it to the kid - he had some style. The black jacket was velvet, glittering with iridescent sequins when it caught the light. His shirt was white and crisp enough to cut diamonds, tied together with an untied bow tie and black slacks. 

“It would be far too obvious, M.G., not that Josie would ever expect me to be back, but I want to drag this out for as long as I can,” Penelope touches up her makeup, a finger to her blood-red lipstick, not that Josie would see any of that once the mask was on, but a girl always needed to be prepared. She turns to M.G., joining him in the chair by his desk. 

“We gotta talk about this plan a bit more, P,” M.G. sighs, sitting up in his bed. 

“I know that you want to swoop in and try to charm her without her seeing your face, but what if she doesn’t even want to talk to you, let alone dance with you? You can’t just spend the whole dance staring her down from the corners disguised as a totally random person.” 

“I have to try, M.G. I left because I couldn’t risk seeing her put Lizzie and everyone else’s happiness first but I was throwing away my own happiness and I just have to try again. It's been - ” she sighs, a hand touching hair that was inches longer from the last time M.G. had seen her. 

“Maybe things have changed. You said she’s speaking up more, speaking out more? Maybe if I were to come back -”

“So, are you…? Coming back, I mean?” M.G. touches a hand to Penelope’s mask, but immediately withdrew it as if burned. 

“Hey, no touching! That needs to last me all night,” Penelope scolds, getting up out of his desk chair to walk back towards the mirror, effectively ending the conversation with M.G. before she said the three words that had been playing through her mind for over two hundred days since she had walked away from Josie. 

“We can talk all about this later and contingency plan if it doesn’t work but it has to work. How do I look?” 

“As a feminist, I refuse to pay lip service to societal notions of beauty built by the patriarchy. But as a male who appreciates the female form, damn girl, you look good.” 

“I’ve missed you, Milton,” Penelope smirks with a wink. 

“You know she wasn’t the same after you left, Peez,” M.G. says, right hand finding the back of his neck in a grimace, as if he didn’t want to be having this conversation but knowing that Penelope needed to hear it. 

Penelope pauses, her hands dropping from her face. 

“She was different, not in a bad way. Well, some of it was bad. She may have spent a month or so sleeping in your bed and probably stole some of the clothes you left behind, but she spoke up for herself more, and made it a point to tell Lizzie when she was being a control freak. That’s something, right?” M.G.’s eyes meet Penelope’s in the mirror. 

Hers - always a deep shade of green but now the color of grass that hadn’t been watered in ages - welling before she blinked away the tears. 

“Yeah, yeah, that is something.” 

Penelope had to hand it to Lizzie - the blonde had really outdone herself. 

The school looked transformed - the grand ballroom was decorated with Roman columns, streamers hanging of their own volition, snow falling from the ceiling that never quite reached the floor, and thousands upon thousands of fairy lights nestled in indoor trees, tricking the students into believing that they had been transformed into a European chateau, their very own night garden party. 

Penelope had double and triple checked the mask in M.G.’s room, interrogating him over her appearance. 

She was a few inches taller than she had been moments previously, her hair was lighter brown and curled. She had let him leave before her, her hands shaking slightly in anticipation of seeing her again. 

The need, the pull that she felt towards Josie, had felt from the moment she saw her and felt like a knife in her gut in the months that she had been gone had grown stronger since she had returned to the school. 

Her feet pull her to the staircase, the music just a dull pounding noise in the background, her heart the cannon fire in her ears. No amount of preparation, and trust me, she had hours on the flight from Brussels, could ready her for the moment that her eyes found Josie’s. 

She was Helen, the catalyst and the spark, her touch launching a thousand ships.

She was Persephone, roses curling off of her fingertips.

She was Andromeda, and Penelope would fly to the end of the world to rid her of her chains. 

Josie’s dress hung to her body like a second skin and Penelope wants to run her fingers over the material. She wants to do more than that, if she was truly being honest with herself. 

Penelope had to take a moment as if struck by lightning at the beauty radiating from her ex-girlfriend. Josie’s dress was a light blue color, like the falling snow around her and Josie should _really_ only ever wear this color. Penelope can see her clearly - a vision in the middle of a snowglobe. A queen. Her mask was white, silver and gold-encrusted on the edges, her lips shining in the fairy lights. She was achingly, breathtakingly gorgeous.

Penelope would never tire of those eyes on her, knowing now that Josie had no idea who she was, but even so, the moment was electric. 

Penelope was the first to look away. The moment was charged, tangible, and Penelope needed a thousand more moments like that. 

The world turned silent again when Josie found herself looking into unfamiliar brown eyes - M.G.’s voice in her ear and a hand at her lower back fading into the background. 

No, they weren’t quite right. No eyes could never be right anymore unless they belonged to Penelope. The shape, the shine, the spark when she tried and failed to wink, the mirth that danced around them when Josie cracked a joke. 

The girl descends the stairs, eyes focused on Josie’s as she disappears into the crowd. 

Josie loses sight of her for a moment, craning her neck to see her, the pull magnetic and sending sparks to the tips of her fingers. 

Penelope circles the crowd for one song, and then another, feeling Josie’s eyes try to follow her. She bites her lip to stop the smirk from growing but this feeling that she had tried to stamp out like a dying ember surges back to life with one glance from Josie. 

She pauses outside, the balcony a vision of white lights and ice crystals, magically heated to keep the chill out. Penelope takes a deep breath, steadying her heartbeat and praying to all of the gods that she could actually pull this off. Her hands shake as she grips the stone in front of her, but the moment is all she needs to calm her cacophonous heart. 

“Where did sh-?” Josie asks herself quietly, standing next to M.G., who was staring off into a crowd of witches, his mouth hanging open. Josie breathes, in and out, slow, attempting to calm her heart, suddenly racing for no reason at all. 

She cups M.G.’s chin to close his mouth and he laughs, but her vision is again overtaken as the brunette witch from before reappears, eyes flashing brightly as she walks towards Josie. 

M.G. straightens as Penelope approaches, but Josie doesn’t pick up on the change in his demeanor. She is struck, blind to all but the way the girl’s curves seem to shine in the dark jumpsuit. 

M.G. subtly elbows her forward and she should curse at him, but the girl standing before her has a look on her face like shyness mixed with mystery and a hint of desire and recklessness and Josie wants to drink in this feeling and savor it all night. 

“I swear to God, M.G.-” Josie begins, a curse on her lips as she bumps into the girl and any and all chill is gone the moment Josie looks into her eyes. That same feeling, that same spark from before, was back in spades. 

“Hi, would you care to dance?” the girl standing in front of her asks, holding out her hand, and there is something striking about the rasp of her voice. 

“I don’t even know you,” Josie points out. 

The girl chuckles. “Isn’t that the point of a masquerade ball? To dance the night away with a stranger you’ll never see again?”

Josie is internally cursing her dad’s idea to have an event with witches, vamps, and wolves they didn’t know, but if they all looked and sounded like her, maybe she could get behind some more diplomatic relations among the factions. 

There’s something tempting about the girl, something that’s all too reminiscent of the memories Josie has been trying to forget, and perhaps, perhaps, she can have one dance with a girl she doesn’t know. 

Lizzie would approve at least, of her trying to move on. If only her sister could take her own advice. Lizzie’s gaze is focused across the room and Josie knew exactly who she was staring at. 

Landon and Hope were tripping over each other’s feet twenty feet away. Hope, a vision in a dark green dress dancing with Landon looked like he was one step away from losing his dinner all over Hope’s shoes. 

His suit was two sizes too big, hanging off of him like extra skin and the hobbit really didn’t deserve to be standing in the same orbit, let alone the same room as Hope. 

A crumpled paper was clenched in Lizzie’s hand and smoke began to curl around her feet before she stomps off in the opposite direction, mumbling something about needing a drink or ten to rid her of that image. 

But then, Lizzie might be better off without Josie’s advice. What had it brought her? She’d risked it all for Penelope and gained nothing but heartbreak. 

Turning back, Josie had realized the girl was still waiting, hand outstretched. What was the worst that could happen? 

She places her hand on top of the girl’s, and with the gentlest tug, she finds herself in the middle of the dance floor. The lights dim and Josie is pulled closer to her, their heights matching in their heels, her hand touching the girl’s lower back as she is guided in a circle. 

“Are you going to tell me your name?” she asks, looking up into green eyes the color of emeralds, shining bright enough to make Josie almost trip over her feet. Almost. 

“Mmm, why don’t you tell me yours first,” Penelope exhales, a light laugh breaking free from her lips as she stares back at Josie. She looked older and even with the light makeup, her jaw was clenched and she didn’t seem to want to smile. 

“Coward,” Josie teases, sparks dancing across her fingertips as the girl held her hand, warm and sure. If she was being honest, sparks were flying up and down her body at all the points they were touching, which seemed altogether too intense and yet not enough. 

“Call me Circe,” the girl states plainly, daring Josie to take the bait and challenge her. Any witch worth her salt knew that Circe was the goddess of magic, daughter of Helios. Perhaps Josie figured her parents had really played into their heritage. 

Josie nods as the girl says her name, watching Penelope’s lips and tongue curling the letters as the sound caresses her ears. 

“Is your mother Hecate?” Josie teases and the laugh that breaks from Penelope’s lips sounds like music. 

“Already asking about my parents after one dance? And here you were so hesitant to take my hand,” Penelope smiles. 

Josie raises an eyebrow. “You won’t tell me your name, will you?”

“I wouldn’t want to destroy the mystery and ruin all the fun.”

Some part of Josie wants to insist, wants to know more, ask more, but maybe it’s better this way. Maybe she can have one dance with a stunning girl and keep her heart well-shielded. 

“Have it your way then,” Josie smiles, and with their names hidden, and her heart protected, she feels suddenly daring. 

Closes the distance between them almost entirely and smirks. “We’ll just have tonight, then.”

Penelope knows that she has to break this eye contact, this hold Josie has on her, before she does something stupid like pass out. Or kiss her.

She spins Josie in her arms as the music picks up tempo if only to give herself a moment to breathe before Josie is back nestled close to her again, eyes sparkling and a smile that Penelope feared she would never see again on her face. 

They’re a grain of sand trapped in an hourglass and Penelope and Josie know that they both will remember it for what it is - a stolen moment in a series of stolen moments where words and names mean less than the feeling of being in another’s arms. 

So Josie loses herself. She loses the baggage she carries around with Penelope’s name on it for a moment, forgets the last two hundred days and breathes deeper and easier. 

The smile of the girl is far too enticing, and she is obviously a more than skilled dancer, and Josie finds herself spun and twirled around the room, almost faster than she can comprehend, and for the first time in months and months, she feels alive, no longer alone, left, left behind, but free and joyful. 

The girl dips her, and Josie finds a delighted chuckle escaping her lips, and seconds later, they are pressed almost indecently close together once more. 

Josie wants, she wants and she needs and her hand finds its way to the girl’s neck, eyes moving between the green ones staring back at her and the red lipstick that was daring her to kiss it off. As if pulled by a string, Josie leans in, nose grazing the girl’s as her breath ghosts across her lips. 

Like a bolt of lightning, a thundering round of applause erupts and the dance ends, the moment torn in two. Josie’s clears her throat loudly, stepping away from the girl, clenching her hands together for want of reaching out again, for want of being pressed up next to her again. 

Penelope is faring no better, her legs weak and the mask too tight on her face as she feels her magic reach out for Josie. 

She bites her lip, eyes on the floor, on the ceiling, anywhere but directed at Josie next to hear, her chest heaving from the moment, from the feeling of a kiss ripped away after six months of dreaming about it. 

She feels the embarrassment radiating off of Josie and wants to laugh. Her Josie, because yes, she had been hers, had only ever been so bold at rare moments. 

From the top of the balustrade, Lizzie begins speaking, wishing them all a wonderful night and reminding everyone that this event is intended to foster cooperation between the schools. 

Josie’s only distracted for a second, but when she turns around again, the girl has disappeared.


	3. finally found that life goes on without you

Penelope rushes outside, through the massive french doors onto one of the mezzanines overlooking the grounds, the same she had fled to earlier, desperately attempting to calm down. 

She’d hoped to catch a glimpse of Josie from afar, perhaps, and maybe, just maybe, they would share a conversation and a dance and Josie would laugh at one of her jokes like old times. 

But this, the heady rush of feeling Josie in her arms after six months away was like drinking water after wandering parched for days. It was like sunlight after a thunderstorm. It was like coming home. 

She had been ready for every eventuality. Every scenario played out in her mind and categorized and color-coded in a neat binder that Lizzie would cream her pants over. 

But she hadn’t accounted for her heart drumming through her ears, had forgotten the rush of simply being in Josie’s presence and how out of control and so, so far gone it made her feel. 

She takes a gasping breath, the jumpsuit too, far too tight as she touches the mask to her face, the glamour holding even as her nerves fray like worn thread. 

Penelope was transported back to the night of their first kiss as she stood on the stone mezzanine. It was a party at the Old Mill because of course it was. Isn’t that how all epic love stories start? At dark, hormone-fueled gatherings with supernatural teenagers? 

Josie was gorgeous, to say the least. Tall and thin. Chiseled features and soft curves as if an ancient sculptor had crafted her to perfection. Spent hours making the lines right. The lips. The eyes. The hands. 

Penelope knew who Josie was, had tried her hardest to avoid the headmaster’s perfect, perfect daughter but then when she caught her eye once, twice, three times one day during class, Penelope knew she couldn’t ever look at Josie the same way again. Her interest turned into a crush and her chest ached the days she would go without seeing Josie, and soared when she spun into her orbit. 

That night, she caught her eye as she played with her hands, standing next to Lizzie, a smile painted on her lips as she watched Penelope staring over the rim of her red cup. 

She had never asked her what had drawn her eyes. 

But neither of them had been able to look away.

Her fingers trail over the rail of the stone, and the memories still feel far too vivid when she hears a voice behind her.

“It’s not very polite to leave a girl standing in the middle of a ballroom,” Josie says, and her voice sounds filled with mirth, not rage. 

It’s a lighter, easier Josie than Penelope has seen in a long time, the kind of gentle teasing that had framed the beginning of their relationship. 

“My apologies,” Penelope smirks, attempting to gather her thoughts. “Your enticing presence must have overwhelmed me.” 

God, she sounded so full of herself. So much like the old Penelope with walls a mile high and a heart encased in armor. She hoped Josie wouldn’t pick up on it. 

Josie chuckles, shaking her head, and stepping outside onto the balcony. “What were you thinking about out here?”

“Another night, another party,” Penelope admits. 

Next to her, Josie stares forlornly into the distance. 

“I kissed a girl at a party, once.” Josie doesn’t elaborate. She can’t go down that road again. Can’t bring those feelings back and deal with them again. 

The memory is still clinging to Penelope’s lips - the kiss soft and gentle and then bold and passionate. So very much like the duality that was Josie Saltzman. 

“Where is she now?” She wants to hear Josie speak about her, the real her, their real story, even if she should know better.

Josie shrugs. “Not here anymore. I wasn’t enough for her,” she sighs. 

Penelope steps closer, her eyes burning with unshed tears beneath the glamour. She catches an errant lock of Josie’s hair, tucking it tenderly behind her ear. 

“You not being enough for someone is hard to imagine.”

“You don’t know me,” Josie points out, but she doesn’t shy away from Penelope’s touch and the electricity is crackling between them, and the pull is almost irresistible.

And Penelope doesn’t know how to explain that Josie is everything, that she is beautiful and wonderful and the love of Penelope’s life, and always, always, enough.

She inhales slowly, her heart racing, hands shaking from holding back for so long, and closes the distance between them. She means for it to be a gentle kiss, to convey all the things she isn't allowed to say, to stand in place of all the promises she wishes she could make.

But as soon as her lips touch Josie’s, the sparks between them turn into a firestorm, raging and burning and bright, crackling through the air, and Penelope loses herself. 

Kissing Josie is like waking up to a warm body wrapped around her and even now, the heat between them is building to a crescendo as hands run over shoulders and Josie pulls the girl more fully into her, nails scraping over Penelope’s neck and down her back as Josie bites and tugs on her bottom lip. 

She had meant for the kiss to be soft and sweet, but its teeth and heat and passion surging upwards and Penelope can lose herself, has lost herself before into a kiss like this from Josie. Her tongue pushes into Josie’s mouth and Penelope inhales a moan as she pulls Josie into her, fingers grasping at the soft blue fabric that she wishes she could just tear off until there was nothing between them. No disguises, no distance. 

The wave of the kiss ebbs and Penelope chases after Josie’s lips, peppering down Josie’s jawline to her pulse point before moving back upwards to her lips. Lips she had nearly memorized. Lips she wanted to kiss over and over and over. 

Josie pulls back from the kiss, opening her eyes slowly as her head swims and she drinks in the feeling, the smell of vanilla and lavender overwhelming her senses. The scent takes Josie back to a memory as she blinks at the girl in front of her. 

The girl who moments before had brown eyes but now has green ones. Whose brown hair is now a few shades darker with subtle streaks of blonde mixed in. Whose eyes are shining with unshed tears. 

Who she knows.

Who she will always know. 

Who she will always recognize. 

“Penelope,” the name sounds hollow as the letters break forward from her lips, lips that had moments before been so thoroughly kissed that she felt weak in the knees. 

Elation turns to panic as her stomach drops and Josie’s heart breaks all over again. 

“Hi, Jojo,” the witch breathes, the timbre of her voice normal again as the effects of the glamour fly away like ash in the night. Josie can feel her magic burst forward in her chest, aching like so many nights spent alone crying over Penelope. 

Josie touches her lips and wants to tear Penelope’s mask off and burn this whole place to the ground. 

“It was...you. It was you. Of course it was,” she laughs derisively, eyes scanning the floor, the sky, anywhere if it meant that she didn’t have to look into those eyes again. Those eyes that swam with tears and lies and memories. 

“Josie, if you’ll just let me explain,” Penelope begins, taking a step forward as she tosses away the mask. It wasn’t any use anymore, after all. 

“No, you don’t get to do that anymore. You gave up the right for me to hear you out the moment you left,” Josie’s voice cracks over the word left, the vowels and the consonants breaking like shards of glass shooting straight to her heart. 

Josie spins around, to walk away, but she turns back quickly, hands raised and voice shaking.

"What was this? What was all of this? You think you can come back here looking like someone else and trick me into falling for you again just so you can leave?!" 

Josie’s chest caves whenever she thinks about the past, when she thinks about the night Penelope left and this time it is no different. What happened to them was a long time coming. It was a dance towards something that looked a lot like a resolution that never materialized and destroyed in a final implosion. 

She had aired out the smoke of her life and rebuilt herself only to return to this place, this conversation with Penelope. The cycle broken and then remade. 

“When you left, it was….it was like everything was shattered. I was broken, and I picked up the pieces and I was moving on and now, now you're back. Did it even affect you?”

_Did you even care enough to be broken?_ danced through her mouth and almost left her tongue but she bit it back, tasting iron and copper. Rage curled and curled inside of her, all progress of the past months gone. Penelope was here and she still held power over her, still had that stupid ability to draw Josie in, and Josie is angry, angry at the world and angry at herself. 

Angry that Penelope is still all she wants. 

All she’s ever wanted. 

“You know what, I don’t even want to know,” she bites out. “You’re just the same, Penelope. You're still lying and manipulating and you think you can sneak in here and keep even more secrets from me. You shouldn't have come back.” She spins on her heel and runs, and runs, and hopes that Penelope can’t see the tears on her cheeks. 

Penelope sighs, fingers clenched into her hands, her nails making crescents in the skin. And she lets the tears fall. 


	4. you can feel it on the way home (way home)

Josie runs, and runs, driven by something like madness, driven by love and hate and everything in between, because Penelope had always made her feel everything and then some. The good and the bad. The highest highs and the lowest lows. The rush, like euphoria, and the stab of pain like a dagger to the heart. 

Tears are flowing down her cheeks as she hurries, away and away. She runs smack into M.G., who looks at her with concern in his eyes. 

“Josie-,” he questions, but she interrupts him. 

“Did you know? Did you know that it was Penelope?”

The guilt is obvious on his face, she doesn’t even need to hear his confirmation. 

“So she has you under her spell, too, again.”

He shakes his head. “I didn’t do it for her, Josie. I did it for you.”

“For me?” The laughter that escapes her sounds miserable even to her own ears. 

“For you,” he confirms, his voice solid even as he’s shifting nervously under her gaze. 

“You’ve been miserable. And I know you’re both refusing to tell me what exactly happened, but are you really going to give up on this kind of love? The rest of us spend our lives looking for that.”

Josie’s silence spurs M.G. on and she really will have to thank him someday for this speech because it was everything she needed in that moment. Everything she didn’t know she needed. 

“Jo, she came back for you. Maybe she didn’t explain herself or her reasons, but when has Penelope Park ever done that? Screw what happened before and screw the Merge. If that isn’t some romantic comedy kind of thing, then I really don’t know what you’re waiting for.” 

All over the dance floor, all around them, couples are still dancing, and Josie stands, and watches them, the enchanted snow falling around them as her world is reduced to now and to the choice she has to make. Her heart rate slows down, her lips still tingle from the kiss she shared with Penelope, and for a moment, everything feels right. 

For a moment, the world is just her and Penelope and Josie knows, knows, knows, with an unbreakable certainty, that she was wrong. 

That they’ve both been wrong, before, and that this is their chance to make it right, to fix the mistakes of the past. 

Penelope came back for her, and in a crowded ballroom, masks on their faces, they found each other. 

(They’ll always find each other.)

And if Josie is going to run from fate, it’s going to be from the Merge, not from the girl she loves. 

Because M.G. is right. 

This is the kind of love worth fighting for. 

“I’ve got to find her, M.G.,” Josie says slowly, watching as his face lights up. 

“Yes, Operation Get Ya Girl is a go!” He celebrates to himself quietly. 

“So, uh, she was going to crash in my room but she blew out of here really quickly after your talk so maybe we can catch her before it’s too late? That girl brought a ton of clothes so she can’t have packed already. She brought, like, so many clothes, Jo.” 

Pulling up the skirt of her dress, she weaves through the ballroom, M.G. hot on her heels. Right as she’s about to reach the door, Lizzie rounds a corner and calls after them. 

“No time, Lizzie,” M.G. groans, “we’re getting the girl. Well, Jo’s getting the girl, but I’m helping!”

Lizzie weaves between them, blocking their way to the door, and making eye contact with Josie. 

“Penelope?” she questions. 

“Yes,” Josie confirms, feeling oddly calm. 

“How in the seven hell’s did Satan’s mistress get past Dad’s security? Is that where you’re going? Ew, why is M.G. following you?” Lizzie fires off the questions rapidly, only pausing to take a breath when Hope joins the group. 

Lizzie blinks at Hope, once, twice, but turns quickly back to Josie. 

“You can’t seriously be running after her. She broke your heart, Josie. She broke you. What do you actually think you're going to do?” 

“I’m going to fight for her. Maybe you should try it, Liz,” Josie’s eyes travel over Hope quickly before turning back to her sister, a meaningful glance passing between. 

A moment passes and Lizzie is about to counter, but Josie really doesn’t have time to spare. “I love her, Lizzie.”

Lizzie lets out a groan, sounding absolutely suffering. “Her? Her? Really-,” she interrupts herself, “well, what are you waiting for, then? Let’s go.”

Josie doesn’t have the time left to call her sister a blind idiot, so she just continues her journey out the door, though the hallway and up the stairs to M.G.’s room. 

Misses the pensive look on Lizzie’s face, the way she reaches for Hope’s wrist, asking her to stay. 

Upstairs, Josie bursts through the door, only to find the room empty, with a pile of comic books covering his bedspread. 

Right as Josie feels her heart sink, the sound of a car door slamming brings her back to reality as she rushes to the window, a dark SUV pulling away and taking Josie’s heart right along with it. 

M.G. thrusts his phone into her hands as she brings up Penelope’s contact info, a selfie of him and the witch greeting her as she clicks on the phone icon. She’s instantly sent to voicemail and groans, hand at the frosted glass window. 

“I guess that’s it then,” she sighs, and tries, and tries, to stop the tears falling from her eyes. She’s failed again, failed at stopping Penelope, but M.G. interrupts her. 

“Oh hell no it isn’t. It isn’t an epic love story without a car chase. I’ll drive.” 

They take off down the stairs, rushing to the front doors and yanking them open. Josie’s chest is heaving and as the seconds tick by, she’s closer to losing Penelope forever. 

“Wait!” Hope yells from behind her, and Josie spins on her heels to see Hope touching a thumb to her lip to fix her - 

“That quickly, huh?” Josie asks with an eyebrow raised, pulling open the door to Alaric’s Jeep as Lizzie follows behind Hope, a dazed smile on her face that could power a thousand light bulbs. 

Her lipstick was equally as smudged, with marks on her neck that Josie never, ever wanted to think about again. 

“We’re not talking about us right now. Isn’t there something important we were supposed to be doing?” 

Hope does a double take as the word “us” leaves Lizzie’s mouth but the blonde is emboldened as she grabs Hope’s hand to bring to her lips for a kiss, tossing her binder into the bushes next to the door. 

“Ignoring that,” Josie shudders. “We’re going after Penelope,” Josie explains. “She just left.”

“I’ll drive,” Hope offers, holding up the keys to the Jeep. 

“Why do you have those?” Lizzie questions, more intrigued than annoyed. 

Hope shrugs, “It’s always good to be prepared.”

“Let me drive, I have vampire speed,” M.G. throws in.

Josie can almost feel Penelope moving further and further away from the school. 

“Can we please hurry?” she insists, and Hope tosses the keys to M.G. Josie takes the seat next to him, makes the mistake of looking into the rearview mirror. Lizzie and Hope have apparently decided to make themselves more than comfortable on the backseat. 

Her heart is racing in her chest, as they finally, finally drive out the gates of the school.

“Can we go faster?” she pleads. She can’t let Penelope get away again. 

They’ve barely made it a quarter of a mile when the lightly-falling flakes of snow turn into a storm, white beating heavily against the windshield of the car.

M.G.'s hands clench tightly around the steering wheel, and Josie leans forward, attempting to see in the dark. They’re almost at a halt, driving perhaps five miles an hour, and still, the street has turned into an icy slope beneath them. M.G. accelerates slowly, not wanting to push it in these conditions, but he senses Josie’s discomfort next to him and knows he needs to come through for his best girl. 

From the backseat, Hope shifts towards the middle, her hands moving at a quick pace, casting lights upon the road ahead of them. Josie wants to ask the names of the spells she doesn’t know, but she can’t bring herself to, can only focus on Penelope, wonders if she’s out too far, not caught in the storm. 

Can almost imagine Penelope driving at seventy miles an hour, leaving the school and Josie behind her. Thick piles of snow are dropping on the windows, the wipers doing absolutely nothing, and M.G.’s grip on the wheel is tight, white knuckled and the car is sliding dangerously through the curves, drifting from one side of the road to the other. 

Josie’s heart is beating at a rapid fire pace, and they should stop, but she can’t, can’t, can’t lose Penelope again. The car is slithering through the curves and Hope’s movements are frantic by now as she casts charms on the car, the street just icy concrete underneath their wheels. Hope magicks some chains on the wheels of the car and M.G. can feel himself getting more traction as he pushes the accelerator into the floor, the speedometer climbing higher. 

“If we’re going to die because of Penelope Park, I’ll haunt you forever, Jo,” Lizzie sighs, and M.G.’s knuckles have gone astoundingly pale and the wind is bellowing outside, lashing against the side of the car. Josie hears a loud “Shh” from the backseat and turns to see Hope rolling her eyes at Lizzie, even as she grabs the blonde’s hand. 

The road curves, up a hill and then sharply to the left and it’s mostly sheer dumb luck that they’re not off the road yet and Josie should ask M.G. to stop the car, but she doesn’t, not with Penelope so close and yet so far away. 

The chains grip the road, but the conditions are relentless and their drive has turned into more of a slide, back down the hill, and the wheels are spinning and Josie’s eyes are on the road, seeking, searching, and finally, she sees a black car, pulled over. “Stop over there,” she requests. 

M.G. barely has time to stop the car before Josie is out the door, heels sinking perilously into the snow, immediately clutching her arms to herself to stay warm. 

“Penelope!” Josie shouts over the wind, knocking on the back window of the car, the tint and the snow making it impossible to see inside. 

The door opens, impossibly slowly, and Josie feels herself hold her breath as Penelope looks up at her, tears silently streaming down her face. 

“You were really going to leave again?” Josie yells. 

“You said it was over, Josie,” Penelope states plainly, moving to step out of the car, her dress traded in for a black peacoat, white turtleneck, and black jeans. 

In the Jeep, Hope tosses a spell towards them, suspending the two in a globe of her own making, the air around them calm and still and more importantly, warm. Their voices carry through the night despite the wind. Josie throws a smile back to the car that she knows Hope will see before turning back to Penelope. 

Josie readies herself to say what she needs to say, what she knows to be true, now. What Penelope needs to hear before this crumbles and crashes and burns yet again. 

“Penelope, I made a mistake the first time, when you left. I’m not going to let you run away again.”

“You say that, Josie, but do you actually mean it?” Penelope is hurt and she’s lashing out and her words tear through Josie like icicles, but she deserves them. She will face all the pain Penelope could inflict on her if there is even a chance that Josie might not lose her. 

“I came back for you. I came back to you and you took one look at me and….my heart can’t take it again,” Penelope’s voice shakes and Josie wants to reach out to her, grab her, hold her tightly. Never let her go. 

“The only home I’ve ever known is you, Jo-Jo. I broke my own heart to walk away from you and I’ll do it again if you ask me to. If you need me to. But I won’t come back again. I can’t. I was a coward to walk away from you six months ago. I thought being apart from you was something that I could do, but I can’t stay away from you.”

Josie takes a deep breath, feels bold, almost suddenly, knowing that this is her chance to fix the mistakes of the past and reaches out to grab Penelope’s hand and its warm, comforting, and oh so familiar. 

“This is me asking you to stay. No more running,” Josie says with a smile. “I don’t care when and if I’m going to die, as long as I get to live whatever life I have with you.”

“I’m going to fight like hell for you, every day, to show you how much I want this, want you, Jojo.”

Penelope surges towards Josie, kissing her with all of the promises that she can think of on her lips. It’s unlike any of the kisses they’ve shared before, filled with frenzy and urgency. Josie kisses her back just as desperately, a silent promise on her lips. _I’m here._ She tangles her hands in Penelope’s hair, an effort to further decrease any distance between them and pull the girl into her. 

“Good god, they’re disgusting. Get a room!” Lizzie groans from the backseat before Hope jabs her in the side with her elbow and a sharp look. 

“They’re in love, idiot. Sometimes you just can’t get enough of someone and need them closer, need them against you like a second skin, you know?” Hope chances a glance at Lizzie, whose face softens at the words, heart rate accelerating as she watched galaxies swirl in Hope’s eyes. 

“Yeah, I do know,” Lizzie replies, lacing her fingers with Hope’s to rest on the tribrid’s thigh. “You’re kind of sappy, though, Mikaelson.”

“That’s entirely your fault, Saltzman,” Hope replies, curling herself into Lizzie. It’s icy outside and the car door is still half-open. 

Outside, the snow is still falling around them, and Josie can hear Hope and Lizzie bantering, flirting, who knows, and M.G. squealing that he knew it, but all she can see is Penelope, glittering green eyes and a magical smile and somehow, the weight of the past six months falls away.

“Come back home with me?” she asks, and Penelope leans up to kiss her, soft and gentle, and whispers, “always,” against her lips.

**Author's Note:**

> this really couldn't have been possible at all without the endless support/love/encouragement/and writing and editing from my darling, liz. before that, this had been sitting unfinished in my drafts for about a year, so you know, i'm thankful for you or whatever because we were able to finish this together. with that said, come say hi to us @saltziepark or @liz__mikaelson on twitter or tell me your thoughts below. <3


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